


Resilient

by lea_hazel



Series: Pride's End [1]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Background Femslash, Blood Magic, Character Study, Demons, F/F, Gen, Mirrors, Self-Esteem, Tumblr: imagineyuorotp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2012-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-20 00:29:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lea_hazel/pseuds/lea_hazel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merrill steels herself for dealing with a demon, knowing she could very well end up dead. Set right before the conclusion of the quest A New Path, in act 3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resilient

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "Imagine your OTP doing your homework." 
> 
> I dedicate this ficbit to anyone who's ever had the good sense to wonder which of the DAII companions could most benefit from participation in the Penn Resiliency Program.

“I am going to die.”  

The mirror said nothing back. Of course it didn’t. The mirror never did anything, it just sat there in the corner of her room, taunting her as only a perfectly inanimate object could. It would remain still, silent and empty unless someone did something about it, and no one was willing to do anything, no one except her. That was why she was going back, even though she’d rather climb every other mountain in the Free Marches and not speak to Keeper Marethari again.

Hawke would take her through the clan’s camp and try to get the Keeper to dissuade her. The Keeper never changed her mind about anything; they were bound to argue as they always did. When she got to the cavern she would be upset from the quarrel; humiliated and distracted, she would lose concentration. The demon would get through her defenses, flimsy as they were after six years of persistent, undeniable failure. Hawke would have to kill her. 

Just when she thought she was getting used to Kirkwall, getting used to Hightown, to living with Hawke in her estate. Sitting in the Hanged Man with Varric and Isabela, listening to their jokes that mostly still went over her head. Climbing the many, many cold stone stairs. Following Hawke, tip-toeing into dark alleyways at night to surprise smugglers or bandits or thieves. Hearing Aveline’s stern warnings and letting them roll off her like raindrops. The others, too. 

It could all be over, soon. It would be, if she let herself keep thinking like this. 

Merrill ran her hand over the blank surface of the mirror. “I can fix this,” she said. “I’ve gotten this far.” 

The eluvian’s face remained as grey and impassive as it had been for six years, the only surface in the room that was always spotlessly clean. Merrill did not turn away from it. Facing its foreboding aspect, she said, “I will not die.”  

She ran a finger over the dull, smooth surface. “No spirit has fooled me yet,” she said. “I know the risks, I know what I’m doing.” 

“Everyone expected me to fail,” she said. The sting of disappointment would always be foremost in her mind. “They were wrong.” 

“I have always accepted the consequences of my actions,” she said, and frowned. “I have never made anyone bear them for me. Hawke won’t hesitate to kill me; she knows what needs to be done.” 

Her breath hitched. She paused and ordered her breathing. 

Finally, she said, “I am strong. I am stronger and smarter than anyone believes. Those who thought me weak have always been disproven. I have risen to every challenge I faced. I will not fail.” 

The eluvian’s grey face looked unimpressed. That was all right by Merrill; she didn’t need its approval, just as she hadn’t needed it from anyone else. By tomorrow morning it could be telling a different tale altogether. She left it uncovered in the darkened room. Hawke and the others were waiting for her outside. She had a mission, and she was ready to complete it. 


End file.
